Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Why Eat, Pray, Love is overrated

Just because I'm a librarian doesn't make me the foremost expert on all books. Let's be honest, reading is a very subjective hobby, there is no wrong way to read, there is no wrong book to read. The worst thing you can do however is not read.
Last Wednesday I hit up my girl Shannon for some much needed highlights for my serious case of outgrowth and to put a little more va-voom back into my usual bob do. She mentioned she read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I rolled my eyes. I hated that book. I don't normally hate books, it's against my religion, but really that book was painful to read to have to look at an know I just couldn't stand it. She loved it, good for her, I know a lot of people do and for crying out loud it has the almighty Oprah stamp of approval too. Hey Julia Roberts will be playing the lead role this coming year in the movie version. Its popular, it gets to the center of our beings focusing on our needs for satisfying our physical spiritual and emotional selves, I get it really. Her other client who was there suggested it. She thought there was something wrong with me that I didn't L-O-V-E that book, her comment was that "Its been on like the New York Times Bestseller Lists for like 3 years or something." Why yes that's how I judge whether a book is good or not, a list compiled by the brains of this world and their purchasing powers. (Yeah Anne Coulter and Rush Limbaugh have been on that list too but I wouldn't tend to mark those as good reads either).
Sooooo, what's my beef with this book. It's selfish, it's self-centered, it's irrational and unreasonable. Yeah we can all say that about a lot of books, that's why we read, to take us into the abyss of another world, to disappear, to find ourselves. That's cool, but for me, being a biography, its just not real to me. I'm so sorry this chick had a bad marriage (I've seen that happen to a lot of people). I'm so sorry she lost her faith in herself, love and life. But really, running away for month to regain all of these losses to expensive far ends of the earth. Sounds kind of like overdoing it to me. I relate it to dieting with a program that forces you to eat their food. What happens the second you get to goal, the moment you come back to reality and are around normal everyday situations and food, you gain it all back. Congrats Valerie Bertinelli for your ability to maintain, but egads when Thanksgiving rolls around I will be applying butter to mine and counting the ones that are forming around my midriff (or lack there of). So here's my thing. Deal with your crap here at home, find your happiness in everyday life, the one that you own and are a part of everyday. Do you need to run and hide and eat gnocchi and live in a temple and drink possibly malaria infested water to get back to who you are? If you do, good for you, I'm glad you have the time, the fortune (both literally and figuratively) and freedom to do so. For us here in the real world, we take meds and meditate in the minutes we have of our lives and get back to living and finding our happiness in ourselves, our families, our friends and our food (oh gracious scone fairy, where art thou?)
I'm really happy though that so many people are reading however, its makes me feel all warm inside.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Tales of Chip Squints - Part 1

So for those of you that don't know Jack fell and chipped his tooth. Really good. Like southern Alabama Yokel, "Hey maw, get off the dang roof good."
So after much deliberation (actually many phone calls to dentists, pediatric dentists and my insurance company - no, we don't need health care reform at all do we? Especially since I have a PPO I should go anywhere I damn well want to right?) I brought him in for a check up to make sure there is no root or nerve damage. Have you ever taken a 2 year-old to the dentist? No? Hmm, I'd rather have a root canal without any novocaine. I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a melon baller. I'd rather, well anything worse than those things, would be taking a 2 year-old to the dentist.
First of all, the dentist wasn't so bad. But my kid doesn't know this dude and he's got rubber gloves on and he's jamming his fingers into Jack's mouth, so yeah, that's kind of scary. Then one assistant comes over and holds Jack's head, another one holds down his legs and I hold his arms down. He's basically Hannibal Lecter at this point and since he's too busy screaming and gasping for air to let this guy look at his mouth, they have to take a metal tool, that looks like an object I saw at another doctors office (let's just say men don't every have to use this ever and it normally doesn't go near the north end of your body). So the examining is over. We breathe, we hug, we rock a little (I need it too at this point).
Round 2
So now to get the sharp edge off they have to file things down. The little tool looks like a dremel with a doll sized nail fine on it. Jack gets back into mummification pose and the scene begins all over. (Can I tell you my dad is in the waiting room and I'm waiting for him to come through the wall and the sizeable screams my kid is wailing out). Okay, quick, painful and now we have to decide if Jack gets a bond to make the tooth look normal, because that particular tooth, the one right in the front, doesn't come out until he's 7 or 8 (I thought 5 or 6 but boys are slower at everything). We are traumatized at this point and considering the hassle we went through to find a pediatric dentist that would take my awesome PPO, I think we will wait until we get our tax refund. So look for more tales of Chip Squints to come.
By the way, the squints part comes from the fact that everytime you ask my kid to smile and show his teeth, his eyes become little slivers blocked by his righteous lashes.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

You make this house a hole.

As quoted by my husband the other day when trying to clean one area of our house it seems we make a disaster of another. We decided to sell our son's old bedroom set on craigslist and funnily enough sold it to the manager of my local Target. Anyhow, the dude came, saw, paid and left with all of the pieces and I was stuck with two dressers worth of clothes and crap all over the bedroom floor, in the closet, stuck in corners I didn't know existed. It was kind of cathartic in a way. We bought that bedroom furniture the March before Dan and I got married. It made the move with us to the house then went into Jack's room when we decided to do a whole Container Store Elpha system in our closet. When I started emptying things out I found swaddlers, blankets, binky holders, clothes that don't fit anymore or are summer clothes, and realized how quick time passes and how much crap one can accumulate in such a short time.
With cash in hand we headed to Target over the weekend to buy some storage bins and the cubicles with fabric drawers and a bookshelf to downsize Jack's room into more of a toddler area. We ran into the manager who really knew that I meant what I said when I shop there a lot. Back at home around 9 p.m. we decided to put the furniture together (I've only bought 3 pieces of furniture in my life that did not require assembly and I just sold it). So in order to organize one little boys room we had to disassemble our lives for a while and although it was frustrating and unorganized we came away with the things that we really needed. A place for him to sleep, a shelf to put all of his books on and something to hold his piggy bank and a light. It's quaint, it's cozy, and it's home.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

That hasn't happened in a long time

Okay, I guess I have to be mushy for a second. First of all, a brief history. Jack has never been a super sleeper. Months of colic. Sleepless nights, sleepless days. Nap skipping, night waking, early risings, yep, according to my mom, he sure did take after me. He has his shining moments sometimes: random 3 hour naps, letting us sleep in until 7:15 on a Sunday, but those days are few and far between. Today will be added to that precious list. We came home after an evening at my parents house and Jack was ready for a binky, ready for stories, and I am ready for his stalling tactics (saying he has to go potty, needing a drink of water, wanting one more story, the light on, the light off, the door open, the door closed; and remember, he's only 2). Well two stories into our evening I felt a little bit more pressure on my chest, a little nasal snorkle, and my baby was passed out. When's the last time I was able to hold my sleeping kid in my arms, and how much longer will I be able to. Alright, break out the "I'll love you forever" book and a box of kleenex and I'm good to go.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

What is it with Wednesdays?

Okay seriously. I was helping another patron at work and okay, I've had this discussion before with "the others," that global warming does in fact exist, although "the others" believe that the weather we experience are just anomalies, but okay, to each his own. But really this guy had to say that Al Gore had air between his ears and our current "fish face" didn't help. I don't make these things up. Could someone let me know if there is a sign flashing on my forehead telling "All conservatives, please, let me have it, give me your most ignorant opinion on the currect administration." Thankfully my forehead isn't that big.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Why did the chicken go to Target?

To make his friends and wife pee their pants of course!
I just needed to share this picture of our good friend John. We never not (for the double negative that means always) have a great time with Jane and John when we go out every month. This month we hit up Burrito Jalisco on 159th and 92nd Avenue. We pull up to see a couple of police cars and an officer talking to a woman with blonde hair. We got a little nervous at first because Jane has blonde hair. At a closer look we saw this woman's hair was very stringy and she was loaded. Neither of those things would fit Jane's description. We found out this lady stumbled into Jalisco's drunk and disorderly and the manager called the police, who got her a cab. The cab came 20 minutes later and drove by the restaurant and the manager booked it after the cab to flag him down. By this time Jane and I had about 1/2 our margaritas gone and the woman was talking to random strangers picking up their take out. WE couldn't stop laughing.
After a yummy Mexican meal we headed to Target. (What else do a group of 30 somethings do after dinner right?) Well of course we had to play with the toys, push every button on the speaker systems and look at all the Halloween candy. That is when we strolled down the costume aisle. John is a tall guy, over 6 feet, and there was this chicken costume calling his name. After a little peer pressure John tried it on and I just had to snap a picture. Although a little short in the crotch, I'd say he makes a great chicken, don't you? Well the best part takes place behind the scenes when we asked him to pose like a chicken he put his hands on his hips and said, "Oink, oink." I give the guy slack because he worked all day that day and we were all pretty pooped. After our purchase and promises of me posting on my blog, we parted ways, only to look forward to our next time out! Lonestar right guys? Or was it Longhorn? Whatever, we're eating beef. Can't wait! Love you both.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Sometimes helpful hints explode, literally

So I'm trying to clean my microwave from the bacon (insert Homer drooling bacon noise here) that dribbled the other day I cooked for my birthday BLTs, (but in my case since there are no grains allowed in my world right now, it was a whole lot of L and T and I added some tky). I always read the suggestions given in magazines for cleaning more naturally: good-bye bleach, hello oxi-clean; see you later multiple spray bottles now I buy vinegar at Costco for $3 and a 5 lb bag of baking soda. This time I remember seeing something though about adding a little dish soap (7th Generation of course), to water and nuking it so that the particles loosen (bacon grease is a stubborn mule). I just couldn't quite remember how long to microwave it for. So my thinking is, well when I make tea in there I usually put it on a select water button so that should work, you know hot but not scalding. Yeah well about 45 seconds into 1 minute and 45 seconds I thought the po-po were banging down my door. KABLAMM!!! HOLY CRAP, exactly. I opened the microwave door, my little dish came flying out and the watery bubbles were handing from the ceiling on the microwave and on the inside door. Well on second thought maybe that's what was supposed to happen. It did leave the interior of my microwave clean, (but my heart is still racing).

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Midway Airport - Southwest Arlines Curbside Check-in - Monday October 6th - SPOTTED

Okay so you are probably wondering why I am posting a picture of an older lady digging
something out of her purse. Look behind her, closer, even closer. Do you see him? Yep, that's right, Ozzie Guillen, White Sox GM checking in to the airport to go on a much needed vacay after a disappointing season. It's alright Ozzie, there's always next year! (Now I'm starting to sound like the other team's fan). Have a great time!
By the way that's my grandma in the photo and my dad shook his hand not a minute later. I was getting flagged by airport security to move along so this is the best I could do with my pathetic camera phone!

There really are people like this in the world?

So I'm working tonight and a woman is asking for assistance for a book recommended by Bill O'Reilly. Okay first of all, ick but can't discriminate!
Anywho, she goes into a deposition about our current presidents disregard for the American people as well as her annoyance with his opt for a second term in office (does she know he just got innagurated this year?) She said to my co-worker, "Hmm, looks like you don't share in my point of view." My response from the peanut gallery was, "Maybe we shouldn't talk politics at the desk." Okay ready for it, why am I so jazzed?
She said, "In this day and age, where's the KKK when you need it?"
I could barf. So if this woman has children and grandchildren, let us believe that intolerance and ignorance (and studpidity) is not a hereditary trait.